


promise

by wiinterchild



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: 72th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Violence, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Character Study, Concept Exploration, Differs from the Hunger Games canon, District 7 (Hunger Games), F/F, Heavy Angst, Human Catra (She-Ra), Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, POV Catra (She-Ra), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Tribute Catra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiinterchild/pseuds/wiinterchild
Summary: She expected it, her name was in the bowl 55th times. It was inevitable. Yet, hearing her name as the chosen tribute from District 7 still feels unreal.She needs to survive, no matter what.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	promise

**Author's Note:**

> This concept has been bugging me for DAYS, so I had to get it out of my chest. It's more like a concept exploration then a full fleshed out story, very description and monologue heavy. If I get more ideas or people are interested in it, I may write a full fic for it. 
> 
> My other idea was to put Catra and Adora into different districts and it would have followed their stories.
> 
> Let me know if you like it!
> 
> You can also check me out on twitter @wiinterchild

❝ Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor. ❞

* * *

* * *

District 7.

Forests and mountain covered ground, thick fog in the early morning and inconvenient fox attacks at night.

That's how Catra would describe her home. She sits high on a tree, watching the sunrise from afar, biting into her apple. Everything is serene and calm as if everything is perfectly okay in this world. And Catra would believe in it if the Capitol dogs wouldn't have come when the first rays of the sun touched the ground. Rolling up in their sickly white vehicles, and started building their podium for today's reaping.

She tries to distract herself from the events of today, but it's hard to think about anything else. She counts in her head, how many times she has put her name in, last time it was 55. She just has to be lucky this year and the next one, then, she will never have to worry about reaping again.

Not for herself, at least.

Her friend, Adora, is only 16, which means she has three reapings ahead of herself. Lonnie has two, just like Catra. For Kyle and Rogelio this is their last year.

Last year's tributes didn't come home, neither the previous 50 ones. Their district doesn't have any alive winner, the one they had hung himself after coming, not able to bear the fight with his demons.

"Catra?!"

She looks down upon hearing her name, she notices Adora walking by the tree Catra is sitting on. Catra grins and jumps down, scarring Adora, landing in front of her.

"Catra!" She creams, clutching her chest.

The older girl just laughed. "Hey, Adora." She smiles at her. "What's up?"

"Told you not to do this." She pouts, Catra just shrugs biting into her apple again. "You are missing breakfast, Lonnie will be pissed. She made us her fancy omelette."

Catra rolls her eyes. "Fancy breakfast before the reaping? I feel like royalty." She scoffs, walking away leaving her friend behind.

"Don't speak like that." Adora jogs after her. "We will get through this, I'm sure none of us will be picked." She bumps shoulders with Catra. "We are the lucky five after all."

"Just because Kyle called us once like this, you don't have to do so. You just encourage him."

"Pfft, I know you like it."

"No, I don't." Catra grimaces at Adora.

They walk in silence, the trees lessening as they are nearing their town's edge, houses emerging from the ground, streets already busy with people. Today is already busy, Catra can particularly taste the tenseness on her tongue. Mothers holding onto their daughter's hand just a little tighter, and father looking after their sons with watchful eyes, holding onto their shoulders.

The reaping only happens in a few hours, yet the tension is already high.

She feels Adora's hand against her own, she intertwines their hands, squeezing just a little tighter.

"You don't have your name on the list that much, don't worry Adora." Catra tries to soothe her, although it feels like a cheap attempt. She knows it doesn't solely depend on this factor.

Adora glances at her. "You know it doesn't determine it."

"Having your name 2 times is still better than 50 times."

"I disagree with your logic."

"Oh, when are you not?"

Adora just shakes her head. Catra holds onto her hand just a little tighter as a Peacekeeper walks by them. Adora nails her eyes to the ground, handshaking. Catra still remembers how they have pulled away Adora's sister, Mara a few years ago, how she never came back. And Adora has to see how they have killed her only family.

The five of them live together, their families dead. Either tried to run away, but didn't make it too far, or fall into the reaping, dying because of illnesses, extreme work. They stuck together since then, their own little family.

Catra is the last one to enter the house, closing the door behind herself. It's not big, only two-rooms, a small kitchen and a bathroom. It's enough for them, they argue a lot, but at the end of the day, they only have each other. The delicious smell of Lonnie's special omelette covers the whole house, lively chatter coming from the kitchen.

"I've found Catra!" Adora announces happily, taking her seat at the table.

"It was about time, I thought you ran off." Lonnie comments.

"You will never be able to get rid of me, Lons. I'm here to stay."

Lonnie rolls her eyes at Catra's annoying grin. "Ugh, just eat."

Catra takes her seat too, next to Adora. Most of their furniture is either recycled from old houses, - the reason they don't match - or they have made them. Mostly Rogelio and Lonnie, who works as a carpenter, while Kyle works in the factory where they make paper out of wood. Adora and Catra took a job from their next-door neighbour, helping the old man by the river with his machines.

"You don't have to work today?" Catra asks Rogelio, who usually is out of the house by this time, he works extra so he and Kyle finally could get married as they planned.

He simply shakes his head. "No, everything is closed because of the reaping. Just as usual."

They finish their breakfast with light chatting, Catra mostly just observes them, unable to shake off the unsettling feeling she has. Again and again, the reaping comes to her mind, as the overdressed clown will pull her name out of the masses.

She doesn't even notice that everyone has already finished, she just stares ahead of herself. Adora puts her hand on her knees, leg jumping anxiously.

"Everything will be okay." She smiles at her, reassuringly.

Funny how Adora tries to calm her down when her own leg does the same.

Catra honestly doubts Adora. She simply nods.

After their breakfast, they all get ready for the reaping. Kyle and Rogelio wear brown shirts and pants, with boots, while the girls have to dress up in a long dress of the same colour. Catra puts up Adora's hair into a ponytail and tends Lonnie's locks too, leaving her own hair wild.

As she looks into their chipped mirror on the old dressing table, she sees a scarred girl, with terrified mismatched eyes, her lips set in a tight line. She tightens her hold on Adora's shoulder, the girl reaching for it.

They are both wearing the old bracelet made out of wood pearls, which they have made in their childhood. None of them took it off since then.

"Let's go." Catra whispers.

They leave the house, joining the crowd as they walk to the centre hall of the district. Adora holds onto Catra tightly.

They go through the usual registration, prickling their finger and putting their bloodied fingerprint on a sheet then they have to stand up in order from older to younger. Kyle and Rogelio stand at the front as they are the oldest out of the five, then Lonnie and Catra, sticking to each other while Adora stands behind them a few rows. Catra constantly looks behind herself, finding Adora's worried blue eyes.

She smiles at her, trying to calm her down.

"Welcome, welcome!"

Catra's attention is drawn to the overdressed clown on the podium, parading in her red blood costume, decorated with cherries and strawberries, white hair held up in a big bun on the top of her head. Face painted with bright makeup and jewellery all over her fingers.

She can't help but hold Lonnie's hand too. The other does the same.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor. We have arrived at the 72nd Hunger Games! How exciting." She chuckles. "I'm Daffodille Lowville, I will host this year reaping ceremony." She announces proudly, Catra wants to punch her. The crows stay silent. "Let us all remember why this event exist, shall we?"

At that, a short film starts to play, Catra already knowing what it's about, heard it multiple times.

It's nothing but aimless killing for the Capitol's amusement masked as ‘order’ keeping.

The film ends shortly, Catra barely paying attention. Her eyes set on the bowl at Daffodille's left side, where her name hides. Multiple times. She has heard many names coming out of that bowl, feeling equally relieved and guilty when it wasn't her name being announced, or her friends.

She closes her eyes, praying to whoever will hear her grant her luck and mercy for this year, to not take her or her friends into this hell.

"Let's chose our female tribute first," Daffodille says, excitement bubbling in her voice. "Let's see, let's see..." Her fingers sway around the small papers, suddenly grabbing one and bringing it out of the bowl. Walking back to the microphone.

Everything is so silent, Catra's body tenses, eyes squeezed shut and shoulder pulled up. Her hands shake, and her heart beats heavily. Daffodille stays silent, stretching the tension between people, probably to amuse the people who are watching this from the Capitol.

"For the 72th Hunger Games, the first tribute from District 7...."

Catra breathes heavily, opening her eyes looking at Daffodille on the big screen. It feels like the woman's eyes on her.

" _Catra Moon_! Congratulations!"

Her breath hitches, she loses her hold on Lonnie's hand, arms falling at her side. Catra stares ahead of herself, her heart in her throat. She gulps dryly, people stepping away from her, except Lonnie.

"Catra Moon? Where is she?" Daffodille's voice echoes through the area.

For a split second, Catra considers running, then she realizes, there's no point. She will be either shut down by one of the Peacekeepers or thrown into prison if they catch her. Which, yes, ultimately better than being killed ruthlessly for the Capitol's amusement. Her train of thought is interrupted, and she is pulled back to reality as rough hands grab her shoulder and arm, tossing her out of the crowd.

She turns around, hand bailed up in a fist. She is face to face with a Peacekeeper, who holds onto her arm, yanking her forward to the podium.

"Catra! Catra!"

Adora's voice cuts through the silence, she looks back at the blonde, who is held back by Lonnie's arm around her waist. Adora is crying, her voice desperate.

Catra tears her eyes away from Adora, as she is brought to the stairs, almost pushed to the first step.

She takes a deep breath, which does nothing to calm her down, and Catra takes her first step with weak legs and shaking hands. She walks up and stops next to Daffodille who looks delightful as if she is watching the greatest show ever. The woman turns towards her, asking something while Catra tries to pinpoint out where Adora and Lonnie are in the crowd.

_They are not there._

Did something happen with them?

"How does it feel being chosen to be the tribute?"

She shoves the microphone to Catra's face, snapping her back. She looks down at the microphone, and to Daffodille. She really wants to punch this woman.

"How would it feel being sent to your death?" Catra asks, voice rough.

Daffodille's smile falters for a split second, then she laughs. Actually laughs. Catra's stomach flips with disgust. Without asking another thing, the woman takes her role as the host and announces the male tribute.

She plays the same game, keeping long and tense silence between words, clutching the paper in her hand with an excited smile. Catra barely pays attention, trying to find Adora, maybe she just missed her? Or Lonnie brought her to the back row? But Catra just can't see her.

Where the hell is Adora?

"Kyle Fright!"

Catra's mind short circuits upon hearing the name. Is this some kind of joke? Is this some kind of sick joke from the universe or the Capitol? Tears prick her eyes, but she holds them back. She won't cry, can't cry. Knowing that people from the Capitol are watching, laughing and having a blast over the reaping. She won't give them more show than she already did.

Kyle walks up to the other side, pale and shaken. Catra searches for his eyes, trying to smile, but it only comes off as a grimace.

"I'm proud to announce the 72th Hunger Games tributes from District 7! Catra Moon and Kyle Fright. Let's wish them good luck for their upcoming game!" She claps, but no one else does.

It doesn't seem to falter Daffodille, she is having fun for herself. Catra considers pushing her down the podium. Instead, she is being pulled away from the stage again, shoving her to the building behind the podium. They are brought to a small room, then the Peacekeepers leave.

The two tributes stand in the middle of the room, shaken, shocked and absolutely terrified.

Catra wants to say something, but nothing comes out of her mouth. The silence between them, in the room, is almost maddening. Kyle turns to her, but the door bursts open, and Adora runs through it, she hugs Catra, trembling and sobbing.

"You got 5 minutes." A man says Catra couldn't care less.

She hugs Adora close to herself, burying her face to her shoulder letting out a shuddering breath. She can't cry now, she has to be strong. Strong for the others, for herself. She pries Adora away from herself, with shaking hands she dabs away the tears.

"Hey, don't cry." She tries to joke, but it comes off awfully quiet and weak.

"Catra... Kyle..." Lonnie mumbles, her cheeks wet with tears.

5 minutes isn't possibly enough to tell everything she wants to tell them. That how proud she is of them for living through the hard years, of how much she misses them already, the bickering with Lonnie, the late-night walks with Rogelio, being with Adora. They all seem distant memories by now.

"We will be okay, don't worry." Kyle tries to cheer them up, drying up his own tears.

"Yeah, everything will be okay." Catra nods along, even though she doesn't believe her lie. "Just... Promise me not to overwork yourself Rogelio, and you Lonnie please just quit smoking it's not good, and... And please don't worry Adora..." She looks back at the blonde, locking eyes with glossy blue eyes.

Catra imagines it must be hard for Adora, once she has already seen her older sister being dragged away, and now Kyle and Catra too.

The door opens, the Peacekeeper comes back.

"Come back home..." Adora hugs her tightly, whispering"You have to come back home, promise me."

Catra hugs her just as tightly, their hearts beating almost in sync. "I promise." Her heart beats heavily, she cups Adora’s cheeks in her hands, and in a quick kiss, she presses her lips to Adora’s. 

Just like she always wanted, always dreamt off.

Everything after this is a blur for Catra, she is being ripped away from Adora and eventually shoved into a car. Daffodille sitting with them, she is talking to them with her high and pitched voice, Catra could barely even pay attention. She folds her hands in her lap, trying to reduce the shaking, or at least hide it. Catra stares ahead of herself, sitting there silently.

At some point, they were escorted to a train, they were sitting in plush chairs, with nice decor around them, nothing like they have ever seen.

A man comes in, explaining to them that since District 7 doesn't have a previous winner who is alive he will take them over. Catra listens to him, although a very small thing remains in her mind from the words he has said. She doesn't talk with him.

"Listen here kids, I know this look. You are shocked and afraid, and frankly, you should be. You will be around people who will bet on the fact that you will either die or win. So grow some balls, put on a mask of confidence and play like a winner or else you will be shredded to pieces and paid no dust."

Catra at least appreciates the straightforwardness.

"You will need sponsors to survive in the arena, they can give you medicine, weapons, armour, food, water, supplies. Everything that you can imagine and more. The more sponsors you have, the bigger your chances are to live. Pretend like you like them, laugh with them and do everything in your power to impress them."

By the time they rolled up in the Capitol, Catra's wildly beating heart calmed down, she paid more attention to whatever their mentor was saying. Although she can see in his eyes, he doesn't have a lot of hope in them surviving.

And honestly, Catra either.

Everything in the Capitol is bright, vivid and disturbingly unnatural. People modify their bodies to look like animals, wearing weird clothing and talking as if they are constantly high, and someone just said the world's biggest joke.

They are put through a 'cleaning' phase, Catra's whole body gets waxed, scrubbed clean, her hair washed, conditioned and trimmed at the end. They pierce her ears too, going as far as looking through her teeth, her nails trimmed and buffed into shape, both on her fingers and toes. They wash her face with different products she has never heard of, going as far as even waxing her face at the sides.

At some point, they tried to take away her bracelet, but she almost punched the woman so they left it alone. Her clothes on the other hands burnt them away in front of her.

She doesn't recognize herself from the mirror, as if looking at a stranger who has a seemingly familiar body like her. Catra never minded the dirt under her nails, or her wild unkempt hair, or that she had a hairy leg. No one really cared, let alone Catra. Her job was to cut and work with wood. There was no time or need to do these things.

A woman takes her measurements too, for what Catra doesn't see the point too. Didn't they come here to fight? Why are they dolling them up?

And she eventually asks it from the woman. "Isn't it a waste?"

"It's only a waste if you don't use it to charm sponsors and stand out of the others. Turn around."

They were given an apartment - as Daffodille called it, she has stuck around - with a bigger living room than their entire home. Foods they have never seen or tasted before, Catra is afraid to eat most of them, so is Kyle.

"You should eat. You both look sickly pale and a little thin."

Catra could argue, she has muscles. Not like Adora's, but she has.

Alder, their mentor, eventually joins them too. "Tomorrow you will have a show to attend. Like a parade, where all of the tributes will appear on chariots. Your dresses will be ready in the morning."

"Dresses?" Kyle asks.

"Yes, the reason your measurement was taken. You don't have to do anything, just look interesting and intimidating."

"Kyle will need the help of that." Catra jokes a little, although it does not improve her mood.

Catra ends up going to sleep much later than she would have wanted, after sitting by the window for hours upon hours dwelling into her thoughts and processing through the whole day. How today has started with a small hope in her heart, it's now disappeared they have announced her name. It would have been manageable somehow, but with Kyle? If Catra wants to win at some point she would have to kill Kyle.

And Catra isn't sure if she could do it.

She rolls the bracelet around her wrist, remembering Adora's voice. How desperate and horrified she was. She probably understood this too.

Kyle and Catra can't go back together. It will only be one of them. If anyone one of them survives this madness.

But how could she look in the eyes of Rogelio again if she goes back alone? They always looked out for each other, and now, they will be forced against each other’s throat.

She curls into a little ball in the middle of the enormous bed, as much as it's soft and big it's just as uncomfortable. She misses the usual smell of lavender, Lonnie's dream talks, Adora's warmth from her side. Tears creep up to her eyes, and finally, Catra lets herself go. Without anyone watching, she cries and cries, until exhaustion takes over her body and she passes out.

The next day is chaos.

She is woken up by a woman dressed in red and escorted to the breakfast table. Kyle looks just as tired as Catra feels, she assumes he didn't sleep much either. After breakfast, they are brought out of their apartment, escorted to the building where the parade would take place. Catra is shoved into a room, with three mirrors, tons of makeup on the dresser table, a dress hung at the wall or she assumes it's the dress. It is hidden behind a protector.

"You must be Catra, right?"

She squeaks, turning around finding a person dressed rather normally compared to others in the Capitol. They smile at her. Somehow it feels genuine, reassuring.

"Uh... Yes." She answers shortly. "And you?"

"I'm Double Trouble. I designed your dress."

"Oh... Oh, thanks. Uhm, I guess."

"I will help you get ready."

Catra nods shortly. Double Trouble instructs her to sit at the dresses, Catra sits down and Double Trouble starts with her hair first.

They aren’t as rough with the women yesterday who cleaned Catra up. They are gentle with her hair, asking if they are pulling her hair or not. Catra watches them curiously through the mirror, Double Trouble uses products she has never seen before, putting oils and gels through her hair, saying it will protect it. Catra is really confused, but it is a nice feeling.

They tease her hair up, starting from the roots working down to the ends. By the time they finish Catra's hair looks like an organized mess of a mane. She kind of likes it. Double Trouble finishes it off with a hairband that has vines and roses around it, they push it into her hair, so the front of her hair looks slick and behind the headband it's wild. They take more time taming her baby hairs, swirling them around her temple.

Then, her makeup. It takes Catra time to get used to it, the brush against her face uncomfortable. But Double Trouble works with it. They also talk Catra through the process as if she knows what they are talking about. But it soothes her nerves. They work fast, but still with gentle touches. Double Trouble spends a lot of time on her eyes, using gold and greens from what Catra has seen so far.

After they are done with it, Catra can look in the mirror. She gasps, looking at herself. If she barely could recognize herself yesterday, now she definitely can't. Her eyes are painted with green eyeshadow, gradually lightening from the inside to the outside. A golden line on her lash line, her eyelashes painted black. She can still see the freckles despite the foundation, and her cheekbones are sparkling with gold, while her mouth painted with red.

"Do you like it?" Double Trouble asks, and Catra can only nod.

They move onto the dress, and Catra's jaw drops to the floor. Double Trouble helps her get into it.

It fits her perfectly.

The dress has a beige sheer fabric over it, - the base under it is an emerald green - that looks like gold vines have been stitched into it, starting from her waist up to her left breast, curling around her arm while the other is left uncovered. The vines spread out from the waist down until the end of the dress. It has a slit from the right side, starting from Catra's upper thigh. The upper part fitted to her body, while from the waistline it spread out.

Double Trouble brings out golden jewellery, it's subtle yet beautiful. They put up the earrings and the necklace too.

"Can I keep the bracelet?" She turns to Double Trouble.

"Of course."

Catra stares at herself in the full-body mirror, barely recognizing herself. Double Trouble stands next to her, smiling at her.

"Can… I ask why the vines? I’m a lumberjack, not a gardener... It’s really pretty, don’t get me wrong!”

Double Trouble chuckles, amused. “Most people don’t bother learning your name unless you are interested. They give the tributes nicknames then. For some reason, they chose Rose for you.” They shrug. “I worked with that.”

“But.. Why?”

“They see you as a pretty flower, but even roses have thorns, right?” They grin at her, handing a small button to her. “Push it when you are midways.” They wink at her.

Later on, they are all being lined up to the chariots. Kyle has got a makeover too, his hair is being swiped back and he wears a one-piece suit similar to Catra's, he even has some makeup on, although not that intense as Catra's.

"Don't forget, look interesting and intimidating," Alder tells them from next to their chariot. "Play with the crowd." He winks, then walks away as their chariot is being pulled out by the black horses.

Catra takes a deep breath, trying to soothe her nerves. "Interesting and Intimidating." She repeats to herself.

"Just imagine that Lonnie stole your meat, you look really intimidating." Kyle whispers, smiling to himself and Catra lets herself smile too.

It will be okay, she tells herself.

The moments they are out to the wild, Catra hears nothing but loud music and people cheering for them or the other tributes ahead of them. She isn't entirely sure. They go through a long paved route, while flowers, gifts are being thrown in their direction, she isn't sure if they are just random. Everything is too much suddenly, the noises, how the whole place is just enormous and overall intimidating. How these people jump around and scream from the top of their lungs like they are crazy.

Catra remembers the button and Double Trouble’s words. She pushes it.

And her dress glows up in emerald green, along with Kyle’s too. The vines on their dresses bloom up in deep red roses, the petals falling behind them. The dress transforms into mahogany coloured one with a slit on both sides, the difference is that instead of lively green vines, their dress is studded with black thrown swirled around their body, it doesn’t hurt them, but definitely looks amazing.

The crowd appreciated it too.

_Even roses have thorns._

Catra smiles at that.

Eventually, the chariot stops as they are lined up by districts. Catra has a few seconds to take a look at the others, mainly the ones who are next to them. One of them looks like the same age as her and Kyle, but the other three. Catra is sure that the little girl from District 8 is barely even 14. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

And then, the music stops suddenly, and the people start to quiet down too. 

"Welcome, to the 72th Hunger Games Opening Parade." A charming, mainly voice booms throughout the whole place. Catra looks up, but the balcony is so up she could barely see anything.

However, the man's face comes into view in a second after as it is being projected. Catra recognizes the face, it's President Prime.

He smiles, eyes wicked green, hair long and pulled back. He is dressed elegantly.

"But most importantly I would like to welcome the most important pieces to our game, the tributes." The crows roar up again, scaring Catra. Kyle takes her hand. "This night gave us a place and opportunity to see who we will be rooting for and hope for their win. Although it's only the beginning. We still have two weeks before the game officially would begin. I sincerely hope that our tributes have a great time getting ready for this wonderful event." He opens his arms. "Let us enjoy the night."

Catra is completely set off by his voice, and how he speaks about this as if it's really nothing but a fun game night and not as if people are going to die for their entertainment. She shares a glance with Kyle, he looks just as worried.

The chariot is being pulled back to the back of the building, Kyle helps Catra down.

"Did we do a good job?" Kyle questions Alder as the man approaches them with a wide smile.

"Judging from the smile," Catra adds.

"Some sponsors are really interested in your relationship." He announces, squeezing their shoulders.

Kyle and Catra look at each other with a weirded out look. "Yeah, uhm...That won't really work." Catra clears her throat. Alder looks at them in question. "Can we talk about it in the apartment instead?"

Alder simply nods, although still curious.

Back in the apartment, Catra carefully takes off the dress, and works through her hair, removes the makeup and the jewellery taking a quick shower, still not using the bathtub. With damp hair and comfortable pyjamas she walks out, Kyle already showered, they sit in the living room.

"So tell me."

"I'm engaged," Kyle tells him.

"And I'm not interested in man," Catra adds. "And, in no circumstances, I will ever pretend that I do. Not even for sponsors."

Alder nods, taken back a little. "That's understandable. But we can work with that too. You two are still childhood friends, they will eat it up. Plus, Kyle being engaged will keep people interested in him."

"And Catra? You did kiss Adora..." He mentions and Catra punches his arm.

"That... That was in the heat of the moment!"

"Who is Adora?"

"Catra's crush."

"If you don't stop I will suffocate you."

"Perfect!" Alder nods to himself. "You can use this story, colour it up a little bit, make it more... Sellable if you wish.

"Wait no-"

"You need people to be interested in you Catra, we _need_ sponsors." Alder emphases. "Just talk about your feelings, you don't have to say her name, or even tell the truth. Play with the crowd, if you get them on your side, you are in a good spot."

Catra settles back to the sofa, clearly not liking the idea. But it's true, people need to be interested in them, sponsors need to be interested in them, so they would get a bigger chance of surviving.

"Fine."

In the next few days, they are busy with training, from morning to night. Catra eyes the others, trying to find any weak point, she manages to find a few. People from District 1 and 2 are, as Catra would describe them the best, are beasts. They are almost good at everything, one of the girls from District 1, Octavia, tried to pick on Catra, but Kyle pulled her away before she could punch her.

Catra was always good with axes, having used them since she was 7, so she was more than delighted to find not just normal axes, but throwing ones too. She practices them, warming up to the lighter weight. They are not made out of pure wood and iron as they are at home. Kyle uses his knowledge of the fauna, he is really good at identifying plants and uses them to create even poisons or ointments that could heal them.

He is not that great with physical fights, but Catra can keep him safe, as long as she can.

She tries to warm up for more weapons, trying out arrows, knives, spears, swords. She prefers knives. Catra tries to teach Kyle too, the boy picking up how to use the knives pretty quickly.

Alder told them not to show their true potentials, and they are keeping themselves to that. It wouldn't be good if their moves would be known so soon into the game.

By the end of the first week, they are being put through a test, where they show their best to a couple of sponsors and important people involved with the games. Their performance will be scored and broadcasted throughout the whole Panem.

Catra wonders at night if Adora watches these too, or maybe too afraid. She knows the parade was broadcasted too, but nothing since then. There will be a final interview a day before the game would begin, that would be aired too.

Kyle goes before Catra does, she hopes he will show off his knowledge of poison making instead of trying with the knives. They are waiting in a room with the other tributes, up from district 7 everyone has already gone through it, they are not even here.

Catra looks through the tributes, some of them already formed friendships or interest to the other, but Catra rather stays back from that. In the end, only one will win. And although she still doesn't know what will happen with Kyle and her, she will keep Kyle safe as long as she can. If she can't survive the games, at least Kyle must go home.

"Catra Moon, District 7."

She looks up, taking a deep breath and walking into the training room. Up at the gallery, there are men in suits, eating and laughing, drinking. One or two looks at her, then more as they notice her presence. Without a word, she holds onto the throwing axes, already familiarised with them, she steps away from the display, walking away from the puppets too that will serve as her enemy.

She throws one, holding onto the other one for now. It lands near the heart, shaking the cardboard puppet. Someone from up above lets out a sound of approving. Catra does the same, this time the axe inclusion into the head target, in the middle.

She smiles to herself, Catra looks up at the gallery finding a man looking at her with intense eyes. It takes her back for a second, but holds her chin up, and squares her shoulder, trying to look intimidating. The man smiles, amused and Catra doesn't know if it's a good thing or not.

Catra then takes her to leave.

"I really hope you did your thing with the poisons and shits." Catra grumbles back in the apartment, letting her hair go down.

"Of course. You explicitly said, "Kyle do not, I repeat, do not use the knives now, do you understand?" He shows a poor attempt to mimic Catra's voice.

Catra throws a pillow at him.

Later on the night, after dinner, they all sit on the sofa staring at the giant TV mounted at the wall. Even Double Trouble is here, Catra took quite a liking to them.

They go through the people, Catra doesn't really pay attention. Some got really good scores, others didn't much. Octavia from District 1 got 10. Catra grimaces at that.

"Kyle Fright from District 7." Swift Wind - the tv host - reads his name. "Score 7!"

Catra's eyes lit up at that.

"Catra Moon from District 7." Swift Wind continues. "Score 8!"

"That's great! That's great right?" Kyle turns to Alder, who nods at them with a smile.

"You are not on the low end, neither at the very top. This is very good on the point that you two won't be a priority to take out by the other tributes." He tells them.

"Good job, darlings. " Double Trouble congratulates them, Catra smiles at them.No

That night Catra could fell asleep more easily, still troubled at what to do with Kyle and her situation, about how the others at home, about how Adora is. She, after all, kissed Adora, couldn't even confess.

By the morning at the breakfast table, Alder is speaking with a man. Catra recognizes him, he is one of the sponsors from yesterday. She nears them with confused eyes, Kyle is already at the table with a smile on his face.

"Ah, good morning Catra." Alder welcomes her. "Let me introduce you, our first sponsor. Micah King."

"Are we supposed to have a sponsor this early?" Catra asks, confused. She takes her seat.

Micah smiles at her question. "Sponsors are allowed to offer their support early on. Some tribute already had sponsors the moment they were chosen." He clarifies it. "I have to tell you, you both are quite interesting to me, that's why I decided to help. I'm sure Alder already told you, but the childhood friends situation really boosts your interest."

Catra grimaces. "I'm sure that was a way to word it better."

"Maybe it was, but I want to be straightforward with you. People look at you and see entertainment, a chance for a good investment."

"And what do you see?"

"Two kids who want to survive."

The night if the interview comes sooner than Catra has expected, Double Trouble had gone to an extra mile again.

They made a silver jumpsuit for Catra, with a wide V-neck almost reaching to her navel, even her back is open. At the shoulders opaque blue drape hangs, dragging after Catra. The pant part clings to her thighs, but widens up a bit at her knees and down. She wears high heels too. The whole dress is decorated with gems and glitter.

Double Trouble this time loose braided her hair, it sparkles with blue glitter too as the light shines on it. They used silver eyeshadow for her eyes and a dramatic black line on her lash line. Her lipstick this time is dark blue, cheekbones dusted with silver too. A necklace hangs on her neck.

"You are beautiful, darling." They tell her with a smile. "Charm everyone out there."

Kyle goes before her. He has once again, similar clothing, Double Trouble always making sure to match the two of them. She watches the interviews from the backroom, Swift Wind asking about his engagement with Rogelio, really digging into things. Even asking would get married if Kyle would win. Catra tries to ignore the sad smile.

Next, it's her time. Catra puts on her best confident look she could muster out of herself and walks onto the stage.

The lights are blinding, and the people are noise, their eyes glued to Catra making her uncomfortable. But, she plays their game. Smiling at the crowd with her painted lips, even waving a little. She takes her seat next to Swift Wind.

"Catra! Such beauty!" He laughs and Catra smiles along with him. "Tell me, what's it like to be one of the tributes?"

She expected a question like this. "Quite hard, and challenging. A selfish part of me is glad that Kyle is with me."

"Oh right, you two know each other for... How long?"

"Since I was 8, Kyle's family raised me, and a lot of our friends." She mentions them too, playing along with Alder's script.

"Is it hard? Knowing that you would be put against, dare I say, a family member of yours?"

Catra glances down her lap, taking a deep breath. "It... It is hard, yes. Kyle, and the others at home... We always looked out for each other, it is strange and hard to be in this situation with him, knowing that only one of us could go home." She says sincerely, the crowd responding positively to her words.

"I understand, I understand." He nods along with her. "And what would you do, if you would win, hm? Taunting question." He laughs.

"Certainly." she forces out a chuckle. "I... I would probably do what I was always afraid of, and confess my feelings to a very important person."

"Ohhhhh!" He gasps. "How exciting! Well, we do hope that your dream may come true. Good luck, Catra."

That night, the tension was high in the apartment. Catra knocks at Kyle's door, then opening it. Finding the boy sitting on the bed, just blankly staring at the wall.

"We both know you have much bigger chances to survive..."

"Kyle-"

"Just please if... Something happens with me-"

"Kyle!" Catra hurries to him, sitting next to him. "Kyle, what are you talking about?"

He turns to Catra. "Just hear me out. If something happens, please, take back my ring to Rogelio. Okay?"

Catra stares at him, then down to his hand, the engagement ring Rogelio worked on for months on his finger. She remembers the moment clearly when Rogelio finally asked Kyle, some would say it was early, but they always loved each other, since they were kids, grew up together. They know each other so well, for Catra it was a long time coming.

"Please?"

She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Okay.. but, only if you do the same. If something happens to me Kyle, take the bracelet back to Adora, okay?"

"And... What if neither-"

"One of us has to go home. _Must._ " She takes Kyle's hand in hers. "They can't lose both of us, got it? So don't be stupid in the arena, if you sense danger and can't deal with it, run and hide. Stay alive as long as you can. Got it?"

The morning comes sooner than everything before in Catra's life.

They are being escorted into an enormous building where they receive their tracking device, under their skin. They are given their gear too, shirts and pants labelled with their district's number. The man who gave them their tracker tells them all about the rules. They can't stay in one place for long or the game would force them to move, there's no mercy in there, you die or you kill, there's no in-between. The instructor even says that if they can't take it any longer, they can just take their own lives.

After that, they are walked to a tube-like lift that brings them up to the surface. To the arena.

Catra's heart beats so fast it hurts, her hands sweat and she shakily breathes. This moment seemed so distant even with everything that went through the past two weeks. Now, everything just seems real.

Kill or die.

The arena is a forest, with thick tree masses, mountains towering over them in the distance.

The first thing she sees as the lift brings her up, it's Kyle from the other side. They lock eyes, Catra mouths good luck towards him. In the middle of the circle weapons, supplies, backpacks and many boxes are displayed. The countback starts.

30... 29...28...27.

Her eyes glide over the others, everyone readies themselves, some turn towards the centre, others are looking at the trees behind themselves, Catra still weighs whether she should run ahead, grab a backpack or whatever she can, then run away. Or don't even try. But she doesn't know if she would have another chance of acquiring a weapon for herself. She zeroes her eyes on a hatchet, laying on one of the boxes.

20... 19...18...

She locks eyes with Octavia, who looks at her with a vicious smile, her teeth ground to have sharp fangs.

11...10...9...8...

She tries to find Kyle's eyes again, but the boy has his eyes on the displays too. Catra wants to scream at him to forget it.

5...4..3...

Catra takes a deep breath, her heart beating in her throat, legs shaking almost. They feel weak, for a split second, she isn't sure if she could even move. Adrenaline already coursing through her veins.

2... **1**.

Catra's body moves on her own, she jumps off the stand she was on, running towards the centre display. Vaguely she hears a scream not so far away from her, and a loud thud as if someone was hit with something heavy. She doesn't look around, doesn't dwell on things or what's happening around her, only to get the hatchet, a backpack and get out of here.

Only for a body to collide with her, pushing her down the ground tossing around. She can barely grasp what's happening before the body on top of her punches her on the nose. She yells, bloody trickling down her nostril and eyes watering, pain spreading through her whole face. Then, she sees the knife and Catra acts out of panic, hitting the boy in the neck then pushing him down off her. She doesn't waste another time, stumbles onto her feet and runs to the display.

Catra grabs the hatchet, a backpack on the ground. She looks around with frantic eyes and tries to find Kyle, chaos erupting around her. She sees bodies falling to the ground, others being killed, blood and blood everywhere.

"Kyle, where is Kyle." She mumbles to herself, tasting blood on her tongue.

She notices him, wrestling with a girl with daggers. Catra's legs kick in again, and before he could register what she is doing, she hits the girl on the back of her neck with the end of the hatchet.

"Get the daggers!" She shouts at Kyle, voice stern yet she feels her stomach tremble.

Kyle does as she told him, body shivering, clearly in shock. She hears another scream and looks back seeing a girl falling to the ground with a twisted neck, Octavia standing before her, with a grind and already bloody hands, shirt. The district 1 tribute looks at Catra and charges forward them.

Catra's leg rooted to the ground, with paled down face formed to be shocked and terrified. Kyle holds onto her hands and yanks her away the two running into the mass of the trees.

The two of them run for God knows how long, until they can't hear the echoes of the fighting happening in the display centre. The forest is crowded with high trees and low bushes, vines and fallen trunks in their ways. She hears nothing but birds chirping around them, it would even look like a scene back from home if her mouth wouldn't taste like iron, and hand sticky with blood, heart trembling with fear.

They eventually stop by a clearing, Catra drops to her knees shivering and heaving dryly as she looks at the blood in her hands. She gasps for air, throat closing and she suddenly feels suffocating. She looks at Kyle who is just as frightened as her. Catra takes hold of herself and digs her nails into her arm as hard as she can, distracting her mind from the panic.

She crawls to the river on fours, cleaning up the blood from her hand and face.

"Let's... Let's see what's in the backpack..." She breathes, voice rough and small.

Kyle nods without saying a word.

There's at least 2 meters long rope in there, a metal water bottle - without anything in it -, line, gauze, a protein bar and a windbreaker. Not a lot, but better than nothing. She tells Kyle to get water from the clearing, but don't drink from it yet, they need to boil it up. Catra straps her hatchet to her belt and gives the daggers to Kyle.

"We should search for a place to sleep tonight," Kyle suggests, getting the backpack on his back.

"Let's go deeper."

The two of them travel farther from the centre of the arena, jumping at any little sound around them, even at a snap of a twig, Catra almost got out her hatchet. The Sun slowly goes down, the two decide to have a small camp under a luscious tree with enough under a bush to hide them, especially at night. Catra isn't sure if staying in one place for one night counts as staying in one place for too long, she hopes not.

They split the ration bar, munching on it silently. Catra's back is against the bark of the tree as she looks up at the sky, or what she can see from the shrouds of the trees.

"I will take the first watch," Catra announces, giving the windbreaker to Kyle.

Before they could settle down to a calmer night, on the sky the fallen tributes' faces are projected. Catra counted 14.

She presses the heels of her palm to her chest, her heart beating anxiously. 14 already dead, 10 remained. Catra didn't know what to expect, hearing this send her into another fit of panic. Instead of waking Kyle up, she remained up all night. Unable to rest her mind.

By the next morning, Catra wakes up Kyle with a rough shove to his shoulder, the boy's eyes snap open with a frantic look. "What-"

Catra puts her hand over his mouth, as her eyes move around frantically. Then Kyle hears too, footsteps. Getting closer and closer to them. Their body freezes, Catra barely even draws breath in, afraid that whoever is walking near them will hear it. The footsteps fade away, they wait long enough before they can't hear anything again.

"You didn't wake me up." Kyle points out, angry.

"Let's go," Catra says without caring much about Kyle's complaint.

They go farther and farther. Catra half regrets not sleeping anything during the night, yesterday already took a toll on her body, but now her legs particularly drag after her, even breathing is tiring, her eyes dry and wanting to close in any minute. Kyle walks ahead of her, she just follows him.

A canon booms through the whole forest, Catra almost screams, muffling her voice with her hand. They look up, seeing another tribute's face in the sky.

Only 9 remained.

They continue their walk until Kyle stumbles into an invisible barrier, Catra touches it lightly with small electricity running through her body. She looks back down, they are up on a hill.

"Is it an illusion?" She mumbles to herself, touching the barrier again.

_"Dear tributes, if you wander too far away from the game, we will be forced to lead you back to the action."_

The game master's voice echoes through the arena. Kyle and Catra look at each other, then back to the barrier. Catra's catches onto it, grabs Kyle's hand and pulls him away, but not soon enough. The barrier explodes with a powerful blow, sending the two of them back down, stumbling down the hill. Catra hit her ankle and elbow, something scratched along her thighs and sides too. She lands in a river.

With a painful whimper, she fights up to her fours, panting. She looks down at her reflection in the river.

Her ponytail loose and crooked, a few tendrils of hair escaped from it already. Her nose bridge is angry red and a little purple here and there, she has a scratch along her chin too. Her face and body are wet. She sits up on her haunches, reaching for her hatchet a relieved sigh leaves her mouth as she finds it there.

"Kyle? Kyle where are you?!" Catra shouts - maybe not the best decision - her voice echoes around, she is about to stand up, a heavyweight pushing her down. Someone grabs her head and forces her head into the water, Catra gasps in surprise and pain, water rushing into her mouth. She flays her arms, trying to get the hands away from her. Catra struggles, eyes and lungs burning, she rapidly gets lightheaded.

With every power she has, Catra moves around until she could roll around, her back in the water. She heaves for air, coughing up water. She recognizes the boy on top of her, someone from district 6. He raises his arm, about to hit Catra. The girl kicks him in the stomach two times, but it's not enough he is still grabbing Catra's hair.

The girl then knees his chest and kicks him in the face, he finally lets her go.

Catra gets onto her knees, blinking rapidly. Her body moves on her own, high on adrenaline and the desire to survive. She jumps on the boy, one knee on his chest, the other leg stomping on his arm while her arms curl around his neck, thumbs pushing against his windpipe. She pushes his head down the water, suffocating him while she drowns him at the same time.

He tries to fight back, pushing a hunting knife into Catra's arm, again and again. She yells in pain but doesn't let go of the boy. Eventually, the other tribute stops fighting.

Catra lets go of his neck slowly, hands trembling as she draws them back. Catra waits, waits and waits, but the boy doesn't move again. The canon sound again.

She has killed him.

She stumbles back, falling into the water again. She hisses in pain, falling onto her wounded arm, yet Catra can't take her eyes away from the boy's unmoving body. Catra crawls back, tumbling onto her feet, she moves out of the river running away into the trees again.

That night Catra spent up in a tree, her arm stopped bleeding, wrapped up in a makeshift gauze from the end of her shirt she ripped off. She gulps dryly, head pressed back against the bark. Her tired eyes on the sky, watching the fallen tributes of the day. Kyle is not among them. Her stomach rumbles weakly, she is hungry and thirsty at the same time, exhausted and she has lost a lot of blood too.

"Wonderful." She mumbles, closing her eyes.

When she wakes up the next morning, she finds a small backpack in front of her, fastened to a parachute. Catra blinks at it, wth unsure hands she takes it, finding a small note attached to it.

_We are rooting for you, don't give up kiddo._

Catra snorts at Micah's message. She opens the backpack, she finds a metal container with some ointment in it, enough for one or two use. Another metal container with rice, and a small water bottle with clear water. She sighs, relieved.

"Thank you."

Catra tends herself, eating half of the rice and drinking half of the water, keeping them for later. She nurses her wounds, four stab marks on her upper arm. It stings and burns, but at least it won't get infected. Or Catra hopes. She puts up the backpack, climbing off the tree.

Half of her day goes by without much happening, she moves around the forest trying to map out everything, without much success. Everything looks almost identical. She also searches for Kyle, in hopes of dinging him, preferably alive. By the time her brain catches up, she is back at the display centre, she hides behind the bushes and trees.

The remaining supplies and weapons, food are all gathered around. She can see two tents up too, and a guard standing by the hoarded supplies. Catra would have left if she didn't hear a familiar voice, Octavia.

She is coming out of the woods on the other end, with another two people.

There are only 8 other tributes, these four, Kyle, her and other two.

Catra turns and leaves.

In the next three days, Catra stays low, sleeping up in the trees and trying to work out a plan to get Octavia down and find Kyle.

However, the game master doesn't find it so exciting that the game is so still, so he sets the fire on fire. Catra is barely able to get away from it before he unleashes a pack of wild lions in Catra's toe as she stumbles and runs away from them, by the time Catra manages to run away after killing two or three. Catra falls to the ground, one of the lions bit into her thigh, she tries not to scream in pain, leg shaking and bleeding.

It's ugly and deep, she can barely even stand on her leg without collapsing back to the ground.

"The river." She speaks with gritted teeth. "I need to go... River..." But the pain, the shock and the exhaustion are too much for her in once, Catra blacks out.

She doesn't dream, stuck in an unconscious state with a high fever and bleeding thighs. Kyle had found her and brought her to an underground cave he had found. He tries to tend her wounds, without much success. Catra breathes heavily, cold and weak. Small tendrils of red started to spread along her wound.

"Fuck." She breathes. "Just fucking leave me, Kyle, there's no point.."

"Will you shut up?"

They spend another night with Catra drifting between conscious and unconscious, the blood veins scooting higher.

And then they announce that there are two bags for everyone, with the exact supplies they needed to get through another day provided by their sponsors. Catra forbids Kyle to go, already out of the world with a pathetic whimper as pain shots through her body. By the time Catra wakes up again, Kyle has a cut on his face, bruises on his jaw and a limp in his leg.

"You fucking idiot." She hisses at him.

In the bag, there are two syringes, disinfectant, gauze and food.

Kyle gives one of the doses in the syringe directly to the wounds, Catra had to bite into her shirt or else she would have screamed. Another one into her arm. The pain fades slowly, numbing Catra. Kyle disinfects his own wounds and Catra's too, wrapping them up in the gauze, and eating the food they got. Rice again, but at least better than the roasted bird that tastes like it's half uncooked.

By the next day Catra gets better, she doesn't have any fever and the red veins disappeared too.

They are woken up by the sound of the canon.

Another day goes by them hiding and recovering. Catra has no idea what was in those syringes, but it recovered her in the blink of the eyes. She doesn't feel pain, putting weight on her left leg hurts a bit and it will leave a mark, but she will leave at least.

They go out of the underground cave, searching for another place to stay.

That night they heard three more canons.

4 tributes.

The next morning, they are welcomed by the game master.

"Attention tributes, the final countdown has started. If you won't face each other, the arena will force you to do so. Good luck."

Catra and Kyle decide to get it over with. They have survived this long, there's no point in hiding, the game master will force them to face together eventually.

"Catra?"

She stops ahead of Kyle, looking back at him. "Hm?"

"You know I always thought of you as my little sister? I'm thankful that you were part of my life."

"Kyle..."

"You know too that only one of us will go home."

"That could be you too!"

Kyle shakes his head with a sad smile. "I know I won't survive this. I accepted it, Catra. But I'm glad that I could survive this long, and be here with you. You said one of us must go home, it has to be you Catra."

Catra pulls Kyle into a hug, and the boy returns it. A desperate and heartbreaking hug.

"I promise."

"Good, you never break your promises."

From that point, everything is a mess of blur.

The forest caught on fire again, this time more violent and fast spreading than last time, with fireballs raining down on them. They ended up at a wide cliff they have never seen before. Octavia and her companion arrive after them.

Catra barely can register what's happening as her body is slammed to the ground by Octavia, her head rings from hitting a rock. Everything is spiralling around her, Octavia holds onto her throat with a bruising grip and chokes Catra. The girl tries to hit, kick, even crawl across Octavia's face, but the woman is relentless. She loses oxygen rapidly, Octavia raises her from the ground just to bang her head to the ground again.

Her heart beats against her throat, and her ears ring. She feels blood around her neck, and she isn't sure if she can hear anything at all, or see. Small dots of whites and black dancing across her vision.

Then Octavia suddenly lets her go, with a pained groan she falls off. Kyle haunches over Catra, shaking her shoulders. Catra gasps for air, holding onto Kyle. As she gulps down the air, she can see and hear more clearly.

"Than-"

Kyle lets her go, with widened eyes he falls to the ground with an arrow standing out of his chest, embedded into his heart. Catra looks back at the boy with arrows, she throws her hatchet away with a snarl, the blade of it catching onto his forehead. He falls to the ground lifelessly. The cannon sound booms twice.

"Kyle... Kyle? KYLE!!!"

Catra turns back to her friend, screaming his name. He is pale, and unmoving his eyes glossy, staring up to the sky. His chest doesn't move at all. Shirt soaked with blood.

"Huh, what? Your little friend died... You couldn't possibly-"

Octavia can't even finish her sentence as Catra pounces at her, and punches Octavia in the face, where she can land a punch she does. Even after her knuckles and fingers hurt, she doesn't stop. Octavia moves, struggles against her, she kicks Catra on the sides but Catra doesn't stop. Even after Octavia's body goes still, snagging against the ground without life.

Catra heaves, her hand dripping from blood, knuckles bruised. Another cannon sound. The last one.

She doesn't even look at Octavia, her whole face busted, bruised and bloody all over. Catra stands up with a shaken body. She steps back unsure and disoriented. She looks around, everything is so silent and eerie. The air is filled with the smell of blood. Catra turns to Kyle's body, dropping to her knee reaching for his ring.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we have our winner for the 72th Hunger Games. Catra Moon from District 7!"

For her, it's outside noise. She leans her forehead against Kyle's, holding the ring close to her heart.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...."

People come to collect Catra with a ship, she needs help to stand and to walk. They had to rip her away from Kyle's body, she even attacked a Peacekeeper for even touching her, breaking his rib. They had to sedate her when she reached for an arrow and stabbed another Peacekeeper in the thighs with it. She clutches onto the ring like the last lifeline, out of the world. Her body and mind numb, she just sits there looking out of her head.

From the reflection of the glass, she sees herself. Her face matted with sweat, dirt and blood. Her neck bruised, red and purple. Scratches all over her face, blood dried to her lips. Her hair clings together, even it has blood on it. Catra doesn't feel like a winner, a champion.

She feels no pain.

Her chest moves slower and slower, someone comes into her vision, asking, shouting something at Catra. They grasp her shoulder.

She can't breathe.

Everything goes black.

* * *

The lights are vibrating, they are too strong for her newly opened eyes. Yet, Catra stares into them, even if it burns her eyes. She remembers everything, she hoped the blissful ignorance would last long after waking up, but everything that happened in that arena has carved its way into her memories, never leaving.

Every joint in her body hurts, she is incredibly sore and even swallowing is painful.

The door opens, she moves her head slightly, seeing Alder.

He walks to the bed and helps Catra sit up against the pillows, offering her a glass of water. She takes it but doesn't drink. Catra looks down at her bandaged hands, it comes up until her elbow at her right arm. An IV is being connected to her, probably pumping morphine into her system or some kind of painkiller.

Alder takes a seat next to Catra's bed.

"Your heart stopped." He tells her, Catra doesn't react. "How do you feel?" Again, no answer. "I know-"

"Can I bring Kyle's body back?" She asks, her voice is small and rough, her throat hurting.

The question takes Alder by surprise. "I think you can."

Catra simply nods, gives back the full glass to the men. Staring at her legs under the cover. "I can't feel my left leg."

"You went through a series of surgeries because of the wound. It will take a few hours for the tranquillizer to leave your body."

They sit in silence. The white hurts her eyes, everything is so clean and white compared to the arena. Not even a speck of dust.

"Can I go home now?"

"You will have to stay until you recover, and then... Have a ceremony with President Prime."

"Then I can go?"

"Yes." Adler nods sadly. Catra is so... Empty.

"Will it ever stop...? The... Guilt, the pain... The shame?" She asks, finally looking at Adler.

Adler reaches for her hands. "I wish I could say it will... But whatever happens in the arena, will always stick with you, like demons haunting you. They call us winners, champions, give us money for the rest of our lives, put us into a nice place, but the only thing we've won are scars and a lifelong regret and disgust to ourselves."

Catra nods, not speaking again. Alder then leaves the room, realizing he won't be able to speak with Catra more. Later on, a doctor comes in, checks up on her, her thigh is covered in gauze, the doctor undoes it, checking on the suture, Catra doesn't even react to seeing her leg. She needs help with showering a nurse accompanying her, Catra takes note of her body from the mirror and what she can see.

Bruises cover her body, scratches and cuts all over her, the stab wounds on her arms are starting to heal, they are still purple, turning into green. She never really had plus weight on her, their district isn't as poor as 12 or 11, but they had to save on food and Catra worked a lot next to it.

But the constant stress, fear and running had taken a toll on her body. She can see her ribs now, her cheekbones slightly hollowed and her skin has a sick flush.

Most of the days she is being sedated, Alder tells her it's because she wouldn't hurt anyone or herself after her breakdown when they got her from the arena. Catra can't deny, she has thought about just strangling herself with the tube of the IV, or breaking the glass on her table and killing herself. When the nightmares of the flashbacks are particularly cruel to her.

Two weeks and she is let out of the hospital.

She spends the night in the same apartment they stayed in during the pre-trials of the games. Catra sleeps in the living room, curled up on the sofa. There are no sedatives in her body, but they are still looking over her. Double Trouble stayed with her that night.

And the next day, it's the ceremony.

Double Trouble works around Catra who is out of it again, staring at one point during the whole time Double Trouble makes her hair. This time, the designer straightened her hair out, brushing and gelling the front back. The makeup is subtle, Catra asked them not to cover her bruises. She has a sharp line drawn over her lashline in red and a subtle red lipstick.

The dress is quite simple this time. A slick black dress, the neck part reaches almost to her chin, the sleeves cover up her arms, ending up in a pointy way covering the upper part of her hand. The lengths reach until her ankle, and there's a slash from the left side of her knee. This time, she wears flats. Her only accessories are her bracelet, and Kyle's ring threaded through a silver chain.

"I'm sorry, darling."

Catra doesn't say a thing, looking at them through the mirror. "You know... I do hope that one day I will be able... To see everyone in the Capitol burn... And I hope I will be the one lightning up that match."

Double Trouble gives her a sad smile as they let her go, bidding goodbye at the same time.

"Thank you." Catra mumbles, hugging them just a little bit longer. She slowly lets them go.

Catra steps out of the dressing room, rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. She walks down the hallway, with a small limp, that leads to the outer balcony where President Prime waits for her. The door opens and Catra steps out, the noises of people screaming and cheering for her, cease her in one place. Catra closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, taking control over her body again.

She takes her place, and Prime starts his monologue. Catra stares at his back the whole time, how simple it would be to just toss him down. She grits her teeth, nails digging into her palms. Stop. She commands her mind.

Prime then turns to her, a crown in his hand. Catra stands from the seat, she receives the crown and the crowd erupts in cheers. It sits heavy on her head, like the guilt and shame of her actions in her heart.

"Quite an interesting choice of dress for a celebration, Miss Moon," Prime notes, looking at her dress, the ring in her neck, then back to Catra.

"In my district, if we mourn someone we wear black. I mourn the 21 tributes who lost their lives for your entertainment, President Prime."

His smile falters for a second, then he raises his hand, holding Catra's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm aware you might hate me, Miss Moon. But one day you will be thankful for me, I am sure." He smiles at her. "Now, let's celebrate."

Catra leaves the Capitol before the clock would hit noon.

She sits on the train, in the same car, the same place she did when they came to the Capitol. The difference now is that everything is silent, Kyle is not here, Alder is not here, Daffodille is not here. Catra is alone. With her memories, with her guilt, with her anger. She stares ahead of herself, the wall across herself the train gently rocking.

Her hand curls around the necklace in her hand, the crown sitting on the table in front of her. She didn't even take off her dress.

"I can never get off the train now, right?..." She mumbles, closing her eyes.

The train that brought her to the Capitol took her to the Hunger Games. They call them winners, champions, parade over them, forgetting the fact that they are nothing but murderers dressed in fancy clothing pretending like blood didn't stick to their hands.

"It's a ride for life."

The train stops after hours, Catra stands from her seat. For a split second, she contemplates taking it with herself but decides to do so, grabbing it. She can melt it together and make a piece for Kyle's grave. She will make the most beautiful one for her friend. More beautiful than anything in the Capitol.

She sees the coffin being brought out of the open door. Catra stares at the men until they are gone from the train. She takes a deep breath, with weak legs Catra walks to the door slowly stepping out of the train to the ground of her home.

The first things she notices are the people, a crowd is waiting for her.

Her eyes pass through them, chest moving up and down fast, panic rising in her blood. Are they going to hurt Catra? Tell her how disappointed they are?

Trains of thought interrupted when she hears her name. Someone is screaming her name. But who?

Then she realizes, they are cheering for her. Not for winning, but for coming home. For surviving.

"Catra!"

And suddenly, she is enveloped into a warm hug of golden blonde hair, glossy blue eyes, and the familiar, comforting lavender perfume. Adora is here. Adora is hugging her. Adora is crying. Adora is here.

Catra drops the crown, her mind in shock, Adora is here. She tells herself over and over again. During her stay in the arena, she completely lost the hope of going home or ever telling Adora her feelings, of ever hugging, holding her again. Even when the PEacekeepers came for her, she thought it was a trick, she wouldn't be able to come home.

But, here she is. With Adora.

Her arms raise, and with shaking hands she hugs Adora too, clinging to the girl with all of her beings. She buries her head into her shoulders, finally letting herself go.

She didn't cry, not once since the game has started. Feeling like the place, the whole thing didn't deserve her tears, so she held back. Again and again each time it would strike her. But now, in Adora's embrace, the only place she knew as home and safe. Catra cries, clinging to the person she loves the most.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry Adora, I'm sorry-" Catra repeats and repeats, until her voice cracks and hurts, still not recovering entirely from the bruises.

Adora doesn't say a thing, just holds her close.

That evening, they bury Kyle's coffin.

The next morning they move into the house, built for the champions on top of the hill. They all have their own room, with an enormous living room, a spacious kitchen, they even have a storage room and two bathrooms. A big garden at the back of the house. It has two levels.

The next week, Catra receives her first payment. She goes and orders the most expensive, beautiful headstone for Kyle. It arrives the next day.

Still not able to look into Rogelio's eyes, she gave back the ring to him. He wears it as a necklace too. Catra spends most of her days in her room, staring at her hands that she sees in red, she could spend hours trying to wash her hands clean to the point where Lonnie has to drag her away or she would scruff off her own skin.

Adora stays with her during her showers or else Catra would do the same. Catra knows Adora is pitying her, especially when she sees her scars embedded into her body.

Other times Catra would spend her time on the bench in their garden looking down the hill. When she would be in a particularly dark place, she would walk close to the hill, toying with the thought of jumping off. Adora had to drag her away one time after a bad nightmare. Up from that point, Adora sleeps in her room.

During a sleepless night, Catra cut her hair with the kitchen knife. Adora found her in the morning, in the kitchen sitting on the floor curled up, she cut her around her, knife on the floor.

Lonnie, as she promised Catra quit smoking, instead Catra took it up for herself. The burning feeling in her throat and lung provides her with some sick comfort as if she feels she deserves to get hurt, deserves to be in pain.

She sees them, from time to time. Octavia would appear in front of her, other times it would be Kyle with a bloody chest. Sometimes the boy who she drowned. The lions would appear, running towards her, Catra would scream trying to run away, only to be told there's nothing there. One or two times, she would drink too, saying it doesn't matter, she sees them sober or drunk. They will never leave her alone.

"Why are you still here, Adora?" Catra asks at night, the two in the same bed. "I'm a lost cause... A walking bomb, neither of you deserve the shit I put you all through..."

Adora cradles Catra's face in her hands, with a sad smile she kisses Catra. "Because I love you Catra. You are still Catra, you went through horrible things, you deserve love and kindness to heal."

"I'm not like before Adora..."

"The horrors you've seen are not you."

"But I _killed_ them," Catra rasps. "I... I killed them, like a mindless animal... I drowned him, Adora, I can... I can still see him, and... and Octavia too... I... I beat her to death Adora... I killed them... I'm a murderer... I shouldn't be shown compassion, I should be dead. I should have died in the arena." Catra gasps, spiralling down again, hands shaking as she hugs herself.

Adora sits up, and pulls Catra to a hug, drawing patterns into her skin and raking her hands through Catra's hair, trying to calm her down.

"Please... Please don't say that." Adora's own voice weavers. "You did... You did them to survive, to... To come home."

Catra just shakes her head, getting out of Adora's hug. "I will take a walk." She says before leaving the room.

Catra doesn't return that night.

Weeks turn months.

Almost every week she is being interviewed by Swift Wind, she doesn't have to go to the Capitol, rather cameras are sent to her home, asking questions about the games and Catra has to pretend like everything is alright. After a month at home, she has to go on a tour, where they stop at every district and she gives a speech to the people. Visiting her memories again and again. Alder accompanies her, which she is at least grateful for.

On her last stop, which fell on her birthday, President Prime sent her a white rose and a book, called Roses and Thorns. She burnt the roses.

Catra shows little progress, being better at recognizing her panic or when she would spiral down. Her nightmares are here to stay, along with her hallucinations. She basically got addicted to smoking, Adora freaking out each time she sees Catra staring at her lighter for a little longer. She shares some bits with Adora, when she would be exhausted from her nightmares, never too much, never too detailed. Despite knowing that Adora has seen everything through the broadcasting.

She started to mend her relationship with Rogelio and Lonnie too. Spending some time with them, but leaving whenever she would feel too triggered to be near them again.

Since coming back Catra never even touched another axe or hatchet. Each time she tried she only saw them in blood, or out of the boy's forehead. Adora suggests she try and write down her emotions, journal a little, it can help her get through her harder memories, in some way forcing Catra to face them. After she finishes a journal, she lights it on fire.

She doesn't touch the money she gets from the Capitol. She gave it free reign to her friends, Catra doesn't care.

Letters would roll in every day, from the Capitol from people around Panem, writing her letters about how brave, how amazing she was. That she is their hero, they want to become someone like Catra. After the first few, she just burns every letter.

The only ones she doesn't are from Micah, who writes to her regularly and sends her sweets, what he knows she likes. She can't bring herself to eat them anymore. And Double Trouble writes her lengthy letters, about their lives and asking Catra about hers, sometimes sending her some little trinkets they have made or dresses. Adora eventually convinces her to write them back.

Summer comes again, and Catra feels just a little better. A little easier to breathe, a little easier to bear her own presence. A little easier to love. And Catra loves Adora so much, but afraid to touch her, afraid to love her. She would have nightmares where Adora is the one with the arrow in her chest, where Adora was the one who was picked during the reaping.

And Adora is so damn understanding, telling Catra that it's okay. She still loves her. So Catra wants to try just a little bit harder.

Then, every progress is being thrown into the trash and lit up with fire when the next reaping comes. It's like Catra gets back in time, except now she has to be a mentor.

Daffodille is sitting in their living room, her colourful dress hurts Catra's eyes. Adora sits next to Catra, Lonnie brings tea for them. Catra stares a hole into the woman's forehead, who doesn't even deem to notice it.

"So let me repeat that... I need to mentor whoever gets picked during this fucking reaping and see them die? Over and over again? Just so the Capitol could have fun for a month?"

"Oh, Catra. Don't say it like that, you are a champion!" She giggles. "It is an honour."

Her eyes visibly tick. "An honour? Then why don't you go into the arena, Daffodlle? Why don't you be the one who has to fear their life and be forced to become a mindless killer? Why don't you go Daffodille or anyone from the damn Capitol?!" She raises her voice, the other women rendered speechless. Adora holds her hand. "It's not an honour wishing I was dead, Daffodille. And I don't wish to mentor anyone, giving them false hope or see them accept the fact that they will die." She finishes, with a much more controlled voice.

Silence settles in the room, Daffodille puts down her mug and clears her throat.

"It is a rule, Catra. A job that you, as a previous winner has to fulfil." She simply announces like everything Catra just said flew through her head.

"If you don't leave the house right now I will gut you out with this spoon."

Eventually, Peacekeepers came for Catra. It's Lonnie's last year in the reaping.

That year, a 14 years old boy and a 15 years old girl were picked.

Catra returned without them.

And the cycle begins. Catra spirals, blaming herself, hurting herself. And Adora couldn't do anything this time to make it better. It gets better, with time, as Catra forces herself to heal, forces herself to stop her toxic actions. And she gets better, slowly, but she does.

Catra picks up a new hobby, carving. Although Adora is still wary to leave Catra alone, the other girl promises to stop if she feels she would spiral down again. She still exchanged letters with Double Trouble and Micah. She works them constantly as she is a mentor now, Double Trouble as the designer for her tributes while Micah is the constant sponsor.

Summer arrives, reaping starts again.

Catra stands on the podium, at the back while Daffodille goes through her usual speech. They just need to go through this year, and she can stop worrying about Adora's reaping. Rogelio and Lonnie are out of the roster, this year is Adora's last one.

"The chosen tribute for the 74th Hunger Games is...."

But then, the chosen name booms through the area and Catra's world crumbles down in one go.

"Adora Grayskull!"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
